


Strategic Withdrawal

by thebunnyknows



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-27
Updated: 2011-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebunnyknows/pseuds/thebunnyknows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes you need to retreat, because life isn't always a war."<br/>Where yoga isn’t really Brad’s thing. But it is a challenge, and those are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strategic Withdrawal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [attempt-unique (kristin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristin/gifts).



> Takes place pre-series. Written for YAGKYAS on Live journal.

“You have to center your core more, my brother.”

“Center my- Rudy, what the fuck are you talking about?” Only Brad Colbert could manage to sound so affronted while basically being upside down and in danger of falling over.

“He means straighten you spine up before your bony white ass falls all over the ground.”

Brad twisted his head to look at Espera, who despite having declared the entirety of yoga a “pseudo-spiritual practice better suited to spoiled rich sorority girls and pussy vegans on the Sunset strip” seemed to have no problem bending and twisting his body into the various poses demonstrated by Rudy.

"You're not getting into the spirit you need," Rudy said.

"Spirit?" Brad asked, "I thought the point of this whole exercise was to help you become more limber?"

"Yoga is not just about physical fitness, brother," Rudy turned his head to face Brad, "It's about the health of your body, mind and soul."

"Those are all ready perfectly healthy," Brad snapped, "what I need is to be able to squeeze into a tin can for untold hours a day and not have my back seize up."

"Now you're just dreaming dawg," Poke said, "Ain't no way your gigantic viking self is going to fit nicely into one of those tin cans they've given us once you've got your MOPP suite on any more than Person has a change of shutting up anytime this century."

"Hey!" Ray shouted from the other side of the group, "Just because you heathens have no appreciation of good music and the intelligent discussion I gift to those lucky enough to be in the victor with me doesn't mean that I don't when it's appropriate to keep quite."

"Ray, there is a vast difference between good music and that whiskey tango, sister humping, monster truck worshiping drivel country bullshit that you call music," Brad drawled while trying to twist his legs to support himself in the new position that Rudy had just moved into.

"Says the man to listens to Air Supply," Poke quipped.

"Air Supply is classic," Brad said calmly.

"News flash Brad," Poke argued, "Just because something has reached the twenty year mark does not mean that it's a classic. Using that logic, disco would be considered classic."

"See, Espera agrees with me, disco sucks!" Ray chimed in, "And besides, Walt likes my singing, don't you Walt?"

"Leave me out of this," Walt said from his spot behind Ray.

"Shut up Ray," Brad said tiredly trying to keep his knees from hyper-extending while stretching his spine out, "There's still no country music allowed in the humvee."

"Fascist," Ray mumbled as he easily followed Rudy into the next form.

"How is it you able to do that so easily?" Brad asked Rudy.

"It's all about having the proper center," he answered.

"And lots of practice," Ray said dryly, "And possibly a body made partially of rubber."

"You ever think that maybe yoga just isn't your thing, Brad?" Espera asked.

"I already know that yoga isn't my thing," Brad said.

"Then why are you out in here attempting to bend yourself like a stretch armstrong when you could be doing something else with your time?" a muffled voice from behind asked. It sounded like Garza but Brad couldn’t be sure without turning around and if he did that he would most certainly fall over.

Brad was determined that he was not going to fall over doing yoga in front of the platoon.

"Because," Brad said patiently, "I needed something new to do. And since there's a distinct lack of mountains for me to climb, I figured that trying to find new ways to bend myself would just maybe come in handy in some future situation I may encounter."

"Plus, someone said he wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of the group since he'd never done it before and like some high school chump, our dear Iceman can no more back away from a challenge than a fat kid can resist a candy bar. He's a little competitive," Ray said.

"I notice that you're out here as well, trying to keep up," Brad snapped at his RTO.

"You're just jealous that I'm bendier than you are," Ray snarked back, "And you're going to be in danger of falling again if you don't spread you feet apart more."

"Person, please don't ever use the phrase 'spread you feet more' in my presence again," Poke said, "It doesn't lend itself to any good visuals."

"Hey, just trying to keep Colbert here from falling on his face in front of half the platoon. Some people just aren't cut out for this type of thing."

"I'm not jealous of you're bendiness," Brad said sounding offended.

"And I can't believe you actually used the word bendiness with a straight face," Poke said, "I don't even think it's a real word."

"Of course it's a word!" Ray insisted.

"You know, I'm not overly surprised that you're good at this Ray," Brad drawled, "What with all the time you spent stuffed into lockers and other small place while hiding from you tormentors in high school."

"Hey motherfucker!" Ray squawked, "No one ever stuffed me into a locker!"

"You sure about that Person?" Poke asked, "You strike me as the type to have all sorts of high school rage issues. Did the jocks pick on you?"

"Weren’t you on the debate team?" Brad chimed in, "That seems like you'd be primed for all sorts of ass kicking from the football set."

"You were the type that made life miserable for anyone you deemed a lesser mortal, weren't you?" Ray asked.

"Please, he's like that now," Poke said, "What makes you think that he was any different when he was younger."

"Our fine mexican friend is correct," Brad said magnanimously, "It's a skill that has been refined over the years."

"You must have spent quite a lot of time refining that particular skill set," Ray said, "Because you, my friend, are a particularly brutal bastard when you choose to be."

"Only to those who deserve it," Brad said as smoothly as possible considering his arms were starting to shake from being in such and unusual position.

"I wonder what your criteria for those who deserve it are," Rudy wondered aloud, "since it seems you tend to judge so many unworthy."

"Are you saying I'm unnecessarily harsh?" Brad asked.

"I'm saying that you have unusually high standards for your fellow man," Rudy answered diplomatically.

"He's saying that you're kinda an ass," Poke said bluntly.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Rudy said as he calmly moved into a new position that had half of the people present starting to waver in place.

"Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill us?" Someone asked.

"Just trying to get you to expand you're bodies to a new range of movement," he answered as Walt fell over and had to stand and shake out his limbs before reattempting the move.

Brad himself was in danger of falling over when he heard Gunny Wynn calling for him.

"Looks like you're saved from making a fool of yourself dude, seems the LT wants you," Ray said.

"That's okay, you can stay and finish up," Wynn said coming up and observing the assembled group with amusement, "It's nothing that can't wait. Or I could bring the LT here."

"No, that won't be necessary," Brad said unfolding himself and beginning to pull himself into a standing position, "I can come along now."

He told himself that a meeting with the LT was a perfectly acceptable reason for leaving the yoga instruction and that he wasn't quitting as so much withdrawing at a reasonable time.

"Besides," Brad said to Gunny Wynn, "yoga really isn't my thing."


End file.
